Teaching-- Working in Circles

 

Last week, one of my seniors popped in to use the microwave and give me her graduation announcement. She was excited about Friday night, which was graduation. “This is a one time deal for us, “she observed. “But you’ll still be here next year. It’s your life.” I agreed—and pointed that, if she fulfilled her plans to become a teacher, it would be her life as well.

                As a person who loves structure and ritual and cycles, teaching is comfortable. The patterns of the year are predictable. September is intense, with new classes and letters of rec; November is chopped up by days off; January and February can be a slog and we are always praying for snow; from Spring Break to Memorial Day is the best work of the year; June is just…done after graduation. I recognize specific times like “The grade I have is not the Grade I want” week, which just passed. We are moving into the week of resignation and relief that we are almost done. There’s also the comfort of moving through the neighborhood, running errands, and bumping into so many old students, now productive members of society.

                But every year is different. The combination of students, classes, and schedule shifts in unpredictable manners and adjustments must be made. This was a quiet year. No big fusses or drama. Lots of work on convincing students that it’s just easier to give in and Read the Book, rather than trying to pretend that you did.  Right now, a lot of acknowledgement of growth and maturity since September. Yes, we are much better. Yes, I see that you are locked in right now. And still, yes, I do know that you just texted your friend to set up a pass date in the hall.  That kind of year.

                The year is winding down. Yearbooks are distributed, Junior take over is tomorrow, the ninth graders are presenting their projects on Tuesday evening.  I have no more thesis based papers to grade; if you missed the memo on thesis, you’ll have to pick it up next year. Summer is coming on. The light is long and clear and clean, with a hint of ocean moisture. Soon, I will shift to summer rituals, which are also both predictable and constantly changing. Life.